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Life is a bitch. I know you all know this; however, we all need to be reminded from time to time.. Get off of your high-horse and realize that everything is not peaches-n-cream. Except when there’s a gin & tonic involved. Can I get a…ummmm…something positive. Shit!

Today, Enya is the reminding catalyst. She sounds like a stress bucket (like, we are) and when she speaks of the cancer, ugh! All I have to say is I was in the coffee shop trying to hide the tears. Yeah, I’m that queer sometimes. (Okay. All the time, but whatever.) I’m have a great friend, and my dogs original owner, that is suffering from an aggressive Lymphoma, and tears happen. I love her, and Sweetcheeks, I hope you are reading and will post for our readers soon. *muah*

Here’s Enya. And don’t pretend like your head isn’t like this on the reg. Yeah. That’s what I thought! –theVar

I’m starting to feel old. I’m 33, and I’m completely overwhelmed. There are a lot of reasons for this. Many are my own fault. But they make me feel old. I realize that if I try really hard (or don’t try anything at all), I can still pass for an 18-year-old at times. Seriously, it happened two Fridays ago. At work—something to do with wearing ratty jeans, flip flops, blue toenail polish, a hoodie, and a book bag on a college campus, I guess. But that doesn’t mean I feel 18. Last night I barely slept with my weekly Sunday night anxiety, and it’s left me a bit melancholy.

I’ve been working out—not a ton because I really am not that dedicated. But I’ve been seeing a trainer. PAYING for a trainer. That’s how much of an adult I am. And this process has shown me that I can be strong, literally, not in a metaphorical way. I actually have some pretty strong muscles in there. I’ve also been taking aerial dance lessons. That also makes me strong. But guess what? These activities also make me hurt. My post-surgery knee got stronger, and then it got weaker. It’s back on the upswing, but it’s a little scary sometimes. My shoulder has been in various stages of pain since May. Not debilitating, but it’s enough to realize that getting older sucks sometimes.

Work has been ugly lately. I am the bad guy. I don’t have the option of being the sympathetic ear anymore. I have to take the attacks and the bad mouthing and the ranting, and I have to tell people things they don’t want to hear. This is not fun. This is not something I ever wanted to do. I’m getting better at it, but I’m not sure how great of an accomplishment that is.

Then there’s the personal stuff. Weddings. I have been going to weddings my whole life. I started being in weddings when I was 19 (I think I was 19. Maybe 18? I’m getting old…). And I guess I kind of figured that after a while, the number of weddings would start to go down. I’ve been to five this year so far. They’ve all been great. Really great. But I thought at this point, I’d start being down to maybe two or three a year. I have three lined up for next year already.

Babies. Oh dear lord. The babies. I had a Friday a couple weeks ago when I found out about four pregnancies, one of which is twins. Super happy news! But why is everyone getting knocked up right now???? I know we’re “at that age,” but it seems excessive. (Did I mention that I love babies? LOVE them. ) Maybe my discomfort really stems from that feeling of being left behind… Perhaps…

And then there are the moments that make you feel really old. Like when you find out that your friend—the wife of one of your best friends from college, and a year younger than you—has a high risk cancer. You look at your friends and their three smiling kids in a picture and try to imagine what happens when life puts on the brakes and you have no choice but to focus on one fight. You think about your friend and how he must be keeping a positive attitude and taking care of his wife and going to work and making sure the kids are taken care of and keeping up with friends and family.

It all makes me feel sad and tired and helpless and old. I’m happy for everyone who is happy. I’m impressed with the people who keep laughing through their hard times. But in this moment, time wins, and I feel old. Only until I get some sleep tonight. Then, I’ll be back in Tuesday shape and looking forward to paying that trainer to beat me up again!

In my 20s, it used to be “Hey, remember that popular girl from high school? She’s got like 3 kids now and she’s fat! hahaha…” But now I’m finally at that age where it’s not just the white trash townies having babies. Babies are all over the place now. And there aren’t even any wedding bells in my immediate future so I can relate to feeling left behind. Don’t get me wrong, I’m in no way ready to start a family, but it does make me feel old seeing everyone around me bouncing their little puking bundles of joy!

I have had maybe 5 full nights of sleep, MAYBE, in the last 18 months. I had MASSIVE pregnancy insomnia (not because I was big and uncomfortable) because of crazy hormones, and my now nine month old has juuuust decided to start sleeping through the night.

Marriage is HARD.

Work is HECTIC.

I’m not 105 pounds anymore (woe is me.)

But still, I wouldn’t trade it for the carefree days of my young twenties, or even my teenage years. Sure, I had some fun, but I had no idea who I was or what I was doing. I actually feel grounded and solid for the first time in my life.

And that makes me feel pretty decent when I feel tired, stressed, overworked, or fat.

This one makes me sad too. I tell my many friends when they are upset, that it wasn’t until I accepted that I would be happy, no matter if I was (insert situation here) forever, that I met and married my husband. We then went through 3 years of serious infertility with many ups and mostly downs and it wasn’t until I accepted that it was ok if we didn’t have a child, that I was able to conceive and carry our beautiful daughter, through an IVF pregnancy. I then accepted that we may never have another child and I became pregnant again, naturally, with our son who was born this past July. This may sound like “pie in the sky” stories, but it’s true. Loving yourself and accepting that where you are is ok is the first step to getting what you want. Wow – phil-o-sophical. Hugs.